The blindness of history and war. A movie that is a witness of the bad conscience of the occidental countries, of their guilty absence, of their suspicious economies, of their stupid and masochist politics. But chiefly this movie is a private meditation on the meaning of witness with a camera in a world where the images have became the fetish of the Affluent Society, with no sense, with no dignity. This movie talks about heroism as a very ordinary fact, without rhetoric, without exaltation. Massoud is dead and this movie has became a film for the memory. It leaves an unwanted sense of tribute, a deep sense of sadness.
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